


Shed That Old Skin

by Laylah



Category: Baccano!
Genre: F/M, Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-14
Updated: 2009-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 15:59:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes most of an hour for him to walk across town to the big houses of Millionaire Row, near the park. Things haven't gotten any better in New York while he was...away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shed That Old Skin

There's an alarm bell ringing somewhere in the building. Dallas almost hopes there's a fire. It would be awful, being trapped in here, burning to death, but he'd recover, and if the lab burned down he could _run_ \--

The door to his cell opens, and Dallas smells blood before he even sees the guy walk in, covered in it heat to foot. Shit, shit, _shit_.

"You don't work here, do you?" the guy asks -- he sounds young, Jesus, and friendly -- with a smile, bright white against all that red.

"No!" Dallas says immediately. "N-no, I -- I'm a prisoner here."

"Ah. Well, then," the guy says. He's dripping on the floor of Dallas's cell. "I don't think I have any business with you. You can probably escape now, if you want."

"Thanks," Dallas says. For about a second he thinks about asking what's going on, who this guy is, but honestly he thinks he's better of not knowing. "I think I'll do that."

The guy waves to him as Dallas leaves, which puts him right up there at the top of the list of the creepiest bastards Dallas has ever met. But fuck, man, Dallas isn't complaining. Not now.

He finds his way to the back door of the lab by following the blood trail backwards, trying not to step in any puddles or trip over any bodies. Body _parts_. Jesus. The alarm bell is back there, going off because the door's been left open, but when Dallas dares a look outside there's nobody in the alley, nobody coming to see what's wrong. Got to be a bad part of town for that. Somebody usually at least wants to come gawk.

But it's not like he wants to go back inside and ask if the bloody guy can give him a lift somewhere, so Dallas heads out on his own. Once he gets clear of the lab he can smell the river, and that makes him a little sick to his stomach, so he turns uphill and walks until the brown-water stink of it is gone. He's still in Manhattan. Those assholes who pulled him out of the river and locked him up didn't take him very far.

He needs to get out of New York, he realizes. They'll come looking for him again, unless the bloody guy wipes them all out tonight, and Dallas's luck is never that good. So he needs a plan, and some money, and some clothes that don't make him look like he's running away from a hospital.

It takes most of an hour for him to walk across town to the big houses of Millionaire Row, near the park. Things haven't gotten any better in New York while he was...away. Most places don't have a lot of lights on, even when he gets toward the nicer parts of town, and there's almost nobody going places, even though Dallas doesn't think it's all that late. He gets up to familiar streets, walks up toward the family town house -- and there are lights on _there_, of all places. Crap.

Maybe he can still sneak in without running into Dad or Jeffrey, if he comes in through the back and uses the servants' stairs. He slips around behind the house, finds the spare key stashed right where it's always been, in the stone lion's mouth, and looks up to see where -- the light's spilling out of Eve's room. Dallas hesitates, looking up.

Hell, even a sweetheart like Eve has probably given up on him by now.

Dallas unlocks the door and slips inside. He tries to stay quiet, because he doesn't want to get Samantha's attention, either -- she'd wake the entire house, being shocked to see him. He finds his way to the stairs without turning any lights on, and climbs them carefully, skipping the one step that creaks really badly. In the upstairs hall there's light coming from Jeffrey's room, too, spilling under the closed door. Eve's is half open. He'll just look, and if she doesn't see him he can always turn around and get out of there again.

She's kneeling beside the bed in her nightgown, her head bowed. "Still praying, huh?" Dallas says, before he can stop himself. "Any of them get answered yet?"

Eve jumps like he's scared her, and her eyes go huge. "Dallas," she says, and he flinches because what if Jeffrey hears? But she's picking herself up and sprinting across the room, practically knocking him down, she hugs him so hard.

"Hey, sweetie," he says, wrapping his arms around her. She's taller than he remembers, and...curvier, but her hair still has the same sweet smell it always did, and she -- she's shaking, isn't she? "It's okay, little Eve, please don't cry. I'm sorry. I must have worried you so bad."

"It must have been so awful," she says. She kisses the side of his neck, and Dallas tries not to think too hard about how long it's been since anyone touched him in a way he wanted them to. "You must have suffered so much."

"Sweetie?" Dallas says, because that sounds like she knows he wasn't just fucking off somewhere. "What do you --"

"We tried," she interrupts. "Once I knew. We were dredging the river. But then we brought up that barrel and it was empty and I -- I --"

"Sshh," Dallas says, stroking her back. He ought to let go of her, but he doesn't want to. "I got away from those guys. I --" Okay, this part is going to be _really_ hard. "But they're probably going to come looking for me, sweetie, so I can't stay here. I don't want to put you in danger." Or be found, but that doesn't sound nearly as good, does it?

Eve's arms tighten around him, her fingers clenched in the thin hospital shirt. "Don't leave me," she whispers.

"I'm sorry, I really am," Dallas says. "I just -- I came by to get some clothes and some money for the train. I can't stay in New York." He never should have said anything to her, because now he's not going to be able to --

"Take me with you," Eve says. She pulls back enough to look up, to meet his eyes. "We'll go together." She looks scared as hell, but he'd bet she's more scared of losing him than of running away from home.

"Come on," Dallas says, trying to be reasonable, trying to think of good reasons why not. "Dad would kill me, right?"

Eve takes a sharp breath, and looks like she's about to burst into tears again. "He's -- of course you -- you wouldn't know, he -- Papa and Jeffrey both --" She shakes her head.

"Jesus," Dallas says. That's going to change a lot of things. "Still, I should get out of here for a little bit. Long enough to make a plan, right? I mean, you know the guys who had me are no good."

"Mafia," Eve says without hesitating. "The Gandor family and the Runorata family."

Dallas swallows hard. "You're mixed up in this pretty bad already, aren't you?"

Eve nods. "A man working for the Runoratas kidnapped me to try to get to you," she says quietly.

God, if he had the power to just _kill them all_ \-- "Yeah, okay. You're coming with me," Dallas says. Eve beams at him, and he smiles back. "Pack yourself a bag while I get changed, okay?"

"Okay," Eve says -- and then stretches up on her toes to kiss him again before she lets go, her lips brushing the corner of his mouth. She's blushing when she pulls back.

"I won't be long," Dallas says as he takes a step backward. He feels like he's blushing too. That had to be an accident. Eve's a sweetheart and a good girl and _his little sister_, and she wouldn't do something like that on purpose.

He can't stop thinking about it when he goes back to his old room, though. She's grown up so pretty. And she's so good to him -- little Eve, dealing with the mafia, dredging the river, for him. God.

And that wasn't the first time they've kissed, was it? Dallas can remember being out at the country house, years ago, and he was out on Eve's balcony with her instead of working on his lessons, and -- he can't remember what they were talking about anymore. It can't have been important. Dallas strips out of the clothes he had in the lab, leaves them on the floor, goes through his closet for something else. Everything smells like cedar from being packed away for so long. His pants fit too loose in the waist, and he has to belt them tight.

The part he remembers is the part where he leaned down and kissed her, clumsy and daring. He didn't have any practice. She can't have either. It was a warm afternoon and her mouth was soft and afterward she stared at him like he'd just called the Virgin Mary a cocksucker. She never told Dad, though, never got him in trouble for it. Dallas's fingers feel stiff, buttoning up his shirt. There are so many stupid, normal things he hasn't done in ages.

When he ducks back out of his room, Eve's standing in the doorway to Jeffrey's, talking to somebody. There's a boy's voice coming from inside. Dallas goes over there to see.

The boy's in Jeffrey's bed, bandaged up, and the expression he's making would be a really good don't-hurt-me look if he didn't have a tattoo all the way up one side of his face. Sitting next to him is a girl with an eye patch and a whole lot of scars.

"Who are these guys?" Dallas asks.

Eve jumps a little. "Friends of mine," she says, and it sounds sort of like a question. "Nice and Jacuzzi. They, ah. They didn't have anywhere to stay, and a friend of theirs has been working in the kitchen here, and --"

"And you offered them a place," Dallas finishes. She must have gotten lonely here. He rests a hand on her shoulder, and she leans into him just a little. "That sounds like you."

"We're very grateful for Miss Eve's generosity," the boy says. "We promise to take good care of the house until you come back, Mister Genoard."

Dallas blinks. That sounds so -- "That's my dad's name," he says. "I'm Dallas." The girl smiles, and he adds, "You better look after the place, all right? Eve's doing you a big favor, and I want things to be nice here when we get back in town."

"Don't worry," the boy says. "They will be."

"Just so that's clear," Dallas says. Christ, it's his house now, isn't it? If he can get the assholes off his back so that he can enjoy it. "See you around. Let's go, Eve."

"Thank you," she says, when they're heading down the stairs. "I know you could have thrown them out, or -- or gotten angry, or...."

"Don't worry about it," Dallas says. He's maybe not happy about having some gang of hoodlums in the house, taking advantage of how nice Eve is, but he's got bigger problems. He'll worry about the delinquents later.

Despite how late it is, they get a cab pretty fast, and get a ride down to Grand Central Station. Eve pays the driver, and Dallas carries her suitcase. There's only one more long-distance train on its way out tonight, a sleeper to Chicago, so they buy tickets for that. They use fake names, because the guys who put Dallas in the lab clearly had the means to get a lot of shit done when they want to, and why make it easy for them? Dallas doesn't really relax until the train pulls out of the station, and then he can feel the fear unwinding out of his shoulders as the wheels of the train rattle along the rails.

Eve's looking out the window into the dark, watching as they leave New York behind. Dallas reaches over and takes her hand. She looks up, and smiles. "I'm so glad you're safe," she says. "And -- and with me."

"Yeah," Dallas says. "Me, too." He lets go of her hand and slides an arm around her shoulders instead, and she leans into him. There's not much to see out the windows, but that's okay. Dallas is pretty satisfied to just hold Eve and enjoy the luxury of freedom.

The porters come around after a while to dim the lamps in the corridor, and turn down the foldaway bunks. Dallas crawls into the bottom one with half his clothes still on, and he tells himself he's not going to watch Eve get changed -- even turns toward the wall and everything -- but the temptation gets the better of him and he looks back over his shoulder. He can see the bare curve of her back, the slope of her shoulders as she bends over to step out of her slip.

_Fuck_, he shouldn't have looked. His little Eve has grown up so pretty, and he's so God damn hard up, and that's a bad combination. He's going to wind up jerking off over her after she puts the lights out -- and that means he doesn't deserve a sweetheart like her, but he never really has.

Eve shuts out the lights in their car, and Dallas rolls over -- she must be done changing, then -- and instead of getting into the other bunk she's sitting down on the edge of his.

"Sweetie?" Dallas says.

"I'm sorry," Eve says. "I know you must be tired, I just --" her hand gropes for his in the blankets. "I don't want to let you out of my sight. It's silly, isn't it?"

Dallas shakes his head. "No," he says. "I think it's sweet." He pushes back the blankets, knows he's going to hell, can't make himself care. He spent the last year and a half in hell, didn't he? Doesn't he deserve to at least enjoy himself a little to make up for that? "Come here."

She's changed a lot from the little girl who looked so stunned that he'd kiss her -- she slides into bed with him without even making him promise to be good. Her bare feet are cold against his shins, and her nightgown is slippery under his hands, and she leans right into him when he pulls her close. The train rocks under them, and she sways in his arms. She's soft in all the right places.

"I missed you, little Eve," Dallas says. He kisses her forehead. "You always were the only one who was nice to me."

"Dallas," Eve says, sadly, like it hurts her to hear that. She kisses his throat, more than once, slowly. God, she feels so good against him. Dallas can feel his cock getting hard, knows he shouldn't be, wonders if she's noticed or would even know what that meant. He rolls onto his back and pulls her on top of him, so her hair falls loose around his face.

"Sweetie," he says, and then doesn't want to ask what she wants or if it's okay, because what if it's not? He reaches up, slides a hand into her hair, pulls her head down so their lips meet. She doesn't pull away, even when his lips part, even when he presses his tongue gently into her mouth. She shivers, and she makes a tiny noise that has him so hard it hurts, but she doesn't go anywhere.

She even tries to kiss him back, after a minute, and she still hasn't had any practice, but that's fine. There's nobody good enough for her anyway. Maybe him least of all.

"It's going to be really different now," he murmurs, and she buries her face in the hollow of his neck. "Just you and me, sweetie. And we'll be okay like that, right?" He runs his hands over her back, slow and smooth, reaches down far enough to cup her ass and fuck, he wants this. Wants to. God. Eve clenches her fists in his undershirt and nods, and if she's shaking, well, he's nervous, too.

Dallas rolls them both over, the thin bunk creaking under them, and God, she feels good underneath him. His knee lands between her thighs and she's taking quick, shallow breaths, but she doesn't try to stop him.

"You know I'd never want to hurt you, right, sweetie?" Dallas asks. "You know you're the most important person in my life." He rocks his hips, can't help himself, friction against his cock and it's so fucking sweet.

"I know," Eve whispers. She holds on tight to his shoulders. "I want to -- I want you to be happy."

Dallas kisses her mouth, her jaw, her throat. "You make me happy, little Eve." The fabric of her nightgown bunches in his hand, silky, as he pulls it up. "I promise I'll take care of you, sweetie. I'm not going to leave you alone again." Jesus. She doesn't have anything on under her nightgown. "Oh God, Eve, sweetie."

Her thighs tremble when he eases them apart, and his hands are shaking when he pushes down his shorts. "Promise me," she says, staring up at him, her eyes wide. "Promise you won't leave."

"Not ever," Dallas says. "I promise, angel. I'm going to stick with you this time." She's slick and so warm, and his cock slides against the folds of her pussy like she's too tight for him to just push right in. "Here, sweetie, pick up your feet," he says, sliding one hand up the back of her thigh and pushing.

Eve lifts her legs, spreads herself open for him, and Dallas knows he shouldn't be doing this, knows he should stop, but he doesn't think he can. He finds the right spot, rubs the head of his cock against her right there, getting it good and slick -- and when he pushes just a little she whimpers, and wraps her legs around his waist.

"Just like that," Dallas murmurs. He gets his other arm under her, holding her close. "You're so good, sweetie." He pushes again, and this time he gets past that tight resistance, sinks into her and she's soft and wet and her legs tighten around him hard. "Sshh," he whispers into her hair. He doesn't move for a minutes, just stays right there inside her, and the motion of the train rocks them both.

When she starts to relax he turns his head, finds her mouth for a kiss -- God, she's so small under him, so delicate, so sweet. She still kisses back like she likes it, even now, and Dallas takes it slow so she can get used to having his cock inside her before he starts to move.

It doesn't take him long at all once he does really start to fuck her -- he hasn't gotten any in years, and he's never had anyone who felt as good as Eve, and she's kind of holding on too tight so her nails dig into her shoulders but he even sort of likes that, too, and -- he feels hot and wound tight and he realizes how God damn close he is just in time to say, "Oh God, sweetie, let go, please, I have to move --" and she does and he pulls out and he's coming before he can even get a hand on his cock for a few last strokes.

She's taking these gulping, unsteady breaths, and Dallas sort of wants to ask if she's okay but he also has no idea how he'd stand it if she said no, so he just lowers his head, kisses her between her breasts, rests his head there. Eve runs her fingers through his hair, like she's petting him, and he listens to the thump-thump of her heart in her chest.

"Love you, little Eve," Dallas says.

Her breath hitches, and she hugs him tight. "I love you, too," she says.

Dallas pulls back a little, and she lets him go. He tucks back into his shorts without really looking -- he's sort of afraid there'll be blood. "Come on," he says. "Let's take the other bed, okay?" He smiles a little, awkwardly. "Since this one's, um, a mess now."

Eve laughs, and it's shaky, but at least it's better than panic. "O-okay," she says. Dallas takes her hand and helps her out of the bunk, then steadies her when she climbs up to the other one ahead of him. She's moving sort of stiffly. It'll be okay, right? She's not really hurt.

The sheets are cool, in the other bed, but they're warm enough when they're curled up close. Eve tucks her head into the hollow of his shoulder and holds onto his shirt, and Dallas can hear her breathing even out when she falls asleep. He holds onto her, his eyes closed, and listens to the steady rattle of the train as it carries them toward a new life.


End file.
